Motorcycle
by Americanwallflower
Summary: Set during the NYSM 2. No spoilers, except for the fact that they ride motorcycles at one point. Rated T just to be safe because of injury description. Jack tries to distract the cops while they're getting away, but crashes his motorcycle in the process. He seems fine at first, but his more serious injuries are revealed later. No character death. I own nothing, sadly. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This is my first fanfic so let's hope it goes well. I love the hurt!Jack stories so this is my shot at one. If you haven't already read it, you have to check out "Where we go from here" by altschmerz. It's easily the best fanfic I have ever read, so I recommend it for all NYSM fans! (It's also a hurt!Jack story, and what inspired me to write my own, so thank you so much to the author!)**

 **Anyways, this is set during the 2nd movie, but there aren't any spoilers, except for the fact that they all ride motorcycles at one point. I set it in NYC, though, so it's kind of the first movie, too. Also, excuse my little motorcycle and medical knowledge (I've watched like 2 episodes of Greys).**

 **I hope you guys enjoy!**

"Danny, I'm on your left!" Jack yelled over the roar of the motorcycle engine. He then pulled up next to Danny, maintaining their formation of the two in the back, and Merritt and Lula in the front.

The Four Horsemen had just ended a show, and their quickest escape route had been four conveniently parked motorcycles outside of the building. They sped through the streets of New York, dodging cars and other bikes. Despite the direness of the situation, the police chase of the four motorcycles somewhat blended in with the usual commotion of the city.

As the volume of the sirens behind them increased, Jack stole a quick glance behind him.

"Well shit," he muttered, noticing how close the police cars were now. He looked to his left at Danny, who didn't at all seem concerned, probably because he was too focused on not crashing his bike. Jack knew they had to escape the police, but he didn't want to endanger his fellow horsemen in any crazy motorcycle-centric distraction.

Without even thinking, Jack swerved ahead of Danny, trying to get the nearest cop car's attention.

"JACK! What the hell are you doing?" Danny shouted at him, concern laced in his voice. He knew that Jack grew up in the city, but motorcycles were new to all of them.

"Just go, I got it!" Jack yelled back. And with that, he cut in front of Merritt and Lula, managing to snag the attention of all three police cars that were pursuing them. They sped past the other three horsemen, their focus solely on the dark figure in the leather jacket.

Hearing the sirens get louder, Jack triumphantly turned around, happy to see all of the cop cars behind him, and Merritt, Danny and Lula safely in the distance. However, his victory wasn't long lived. As he turned back to the road, he was met with a giant truck pulling out of the alley in front of him.

"Oh hell no." While colorfully swearing to himself, Jack managed to start to turn the bike sideways; however, it skidded to a complete stop (faster than he had anticipated), tossing him off the side of the bike in the process. He collided with the ground, the initial impact knocking all of the wind out of him. He rolled a few feet, hitting the ground harder each time he began a new rotation, and then skidded to a stop against the pavement. He pushed himself up onto his hand and knees, groaning at the newly introduced pain all throughout his body, but especially in his torso. He finally got himself up to one knee, one hand protectively wrapped around his stomach.

"Goddamn it Jack! You ok, kid?"

Jack's focus shifted to Merritt standing in front of him, motorcycle parked near by.

"Yeah...yeah, I'm good," he managed to get out in between shaky breaths.

"Good. I'd love to sit and chat, but we gotta get outta here," Merritt stated abruptly, offering his hand out to the crumpled horseman. He eyed Jack as he struggled to get himself up, concerned at the younger man's fogginess. It was unlike Jack to be so sluggish; he was always so sharp and alert. Merritt made a mental note to interrogate Jack further once they got back to the apartment.

Jack reached up and grabbed Merritt's hand, thankful for the support. They mounted Merritt's bike and sped back to the apartment, Jack pleased to see the police cars aimlessly driving down the alley that the truck had come out of.

"Where are they? It's been like… 20 minutes!" Daniel exclaimed, worried about Merritt and Jack's whereabouts.

"Relax, Danny, they're probably fine," Lula countered, her laid-back manner clashing with Danny's controlling ways.

Just as she had said this, the door opened, and Merritt and Jack entered. Merritt walked in with Jack by his side, almost all of the kid's weight on Merritt as he helped him over to the couch. Lula's eyes widened as she saw Jack; he looked horrible. His face was scratched up, and each step seemed to pain him, as he winced every time his body was jostled in the slightest way. His arm was wrapped around Merritt's shoulder, all his weight resting on the mentalist.

"What the hell happened?" Lula questioned, immediately crouching down by Jack. Merritt had gotten him to the couch where he now half-laid down half-sat up, looking extremely uncomfortable with every breath he took.

"Yeah, you look like shit," Danny remarked. He came over next to Lula, noticing the long gash along Jack's cheek. He reached down to Jack's chin, slightly turning his face so he could better examine the cut.

"Jackie-boy here had a little motorcycle accident," Merritt answered, earning a pissed-off glance from Jack.

"Yeah, I'll say," Danny replied, still looking at the gash on Jack's face, continuing to tilt Jack's head in different directions. In the meantime, Lula had ran to get the first aid kit they kept in the apartment.

"What are you, Meredith Grey?" Jack smirked, slightly amused at Danny's sudden medical knowledge and make-shift first aid kit.

"Yeah, and that makes you James frikin' Bond, now, doesn't it? Trying to pull off motorcycle stunts," Danny countered.

"Touche, Atlas, Touche. But, c'mon, I got the cops to go- OW Danny, what the hell was that?"

Danny smirked at Jack, holding a disinfecting wipe in his hand.

"Yeah, I forgot to tell you that was gonna sting," he said, not-so apologetically.

"Yeah, thanks for the heads up."

Daniel just laughed as he pulled out a long enough bandaid to cover the cut.

"Oh, by the way, how did you cut your face if you were on a motorcycle with a helmet on?"

"'Cause when I fell off, my helmet got knocked off, dumbass," Jack shot back, a slight smile on his face.

"Yeah, _I'm_ the dumbass here. _My_ face doesn't look like it just hit the concrete..."

While the two were bickering, Lula had sat there in silence, still concerned about Jack. Although he was joking around with Daniel, something didn't seem right. Every time he would laugh or move so Daniel could tend to his cuts, he would do so stiffly, almost to the point where it seemed to pain him. Merritt didn't seem concerned, as he had left Jack with Danny to go make some coffee.

"Jack, are you sure you're ok?" she finally asked.

"I mean, he's pretty stupid if you ask me…" Danny trailed off, putting away the med kit.

Lula glared at him, but then refocused on Jack, waiting for an answer.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little banged up, but I'm good," Jack answered with a smile. If he was being honest, no, he wasn't _entirely_ fine. His face stung a little, but that had already been taken care of. Now that the adrenaline had worn off and Daniel was no longer there to distract him with his jokes and teasing ways, the familiar ache had come back to his torso. He figured he just had a few nasty bruises and it wasn't anything to worry about, though, so he restrained from telling Lula and the others.

"Alright…" Lula replied, still unsure of his answer. "If anything starts to bother you, you let us know, ok?"

"Promise," Jack said, his signature goofy smile gracing his lips.

Lula couldn't help but smile back, and let out a small giggle at Jack's childishness. She sank down into the couch beside him, his head and back resting on her shoulder. Draping her around around his side and laying it on his stomach, she felt Jack tense up and heard a small gasp. She craned her neck around to look at his face. Seeing her worried expression, he quickly thought up a lie.

"You just scared me, that's all…" he spat out, first thing that came to his mind.

She sighed, knowing that something really _was_ wrong, but she didn't want to push just yet.

"Ok, if you say so. Just get some sleep, ok?" She kissed the top of his forehead and rested her head on the back of the couch.

Jack smiled, curling closer into her shoulder. He began drifting off to sleep, but the pain in his torso kept growing. Finally, sleep overcame him, giving him relief for the first time since the crash.

 **Hope everyone enjoyed! If I get enough interest in this story, I'll post the second chapter, so read and review please! Thank you all!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the favorites, follows and reviews! I really appreciate it. To Roka (Guest): Thank you so much for the kind review! It really made me smile, and I'm glad that you are enjoying the story!**

 **Here's Chapter 2! Enjoy!**

Jack woke up the next morning, slightly forgetting what happened. As soon as he tried to sit up, he was met with a sharp, stabbing pain all throughout his torso and chest. He gasped, trying not to cry out in pain. He slowly laid himself back down and twisted his head around to see if he had woken up Lula. To his relief, she was still asleep. He smiled as he let his eyes wander over her features.

"Jack, you good?" someone croaked from the kitchen.

Jack felt the color drain from his face as he recognized the tired voice of the one and only J. Daniel Atlas. _Great,_ he thought.

"Yeah, fine," Jack breathed out, trying to keep his voice from cracking as the pain in his stomach spiked.

Danny eyed him carefully and raised a questioning eyebrow. He slowly moved into the living room and sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch. Placing his coffee down next to him, he looked at Jack once again.

"What?" Jack said, somewhat defensively.

"Oh, nothing," Danny said, "I'm just waiting for you to stop lying and tell me what's wrong." He picked up his coffee, took a sip, and set it down, never taking his eyes off of Jack. He shot Jack a smug smile, trying to hide his concern and worry.

"What are you, Merritt?" Jack muttered, somewhat embarrassed that Danny had called him out.

"Merritt would've hypnotized you into telling him," Danny countered.

At that moment, Lula woke up and stretched.

"What's going on?" she asked groggily, sitting up abruptly. As she did so, Jack got pushed up into a sitting position. He let out a sharp cry, tensing up and squeezing his eyes shut. His hand instinctively flew to his stomach, his arm now wrapped protectively around his torso while his other arm was propped up behind him.

"Jack! What's wrong?" Lula gasped.

"Yeah, Jack, what's wrong?" Danny echoed, slightly mockingly.

Jack stared daggers at Danny, and then softened his gaze when he got to Lula.

"Jack…" she said gently, bringing a hand up to his face and rubbing the back of her fingers against his cheek, "what's wrong?"

Jack let out a pained sigh and met her eyes. "When I crashed yesterday….I hit the ground...pretty hard…" Talking was becoming difficult, as it required more effort than it should've. His chest was rising and falling irregularly, each word requiring more energy than the last.

Noticing this, Lula cut him off. "Where does it hurt?"

"My… stomach…" Jack managed. His eyes were now closed shut, as if he was trying to shut out the pain. His teeth were also clenched, making understanding him slightly difficult.

Danny then intervened. He leaned over to Jack from where he was sitting on the coffee table, gently grabbing on to Jack's shoulders and pushing him back down so he was laying down. Jack winced, the small movement causing him pain. Danny then reached for Jack's shirt, gripping the bottom of it.

"Can I?"

"Yeah."

Danny slowly and gently pulled Jack's shirt back, exposing his torso. Lula gasped and looked away and Danny's eyes widened. Hearing Lula's gasp, Jack opened his eyes and followed his friends' gaze. He let out a loud sigh.

"Well shit, Jack," Danny muttered, gradually lowering his hand down to Jack's stomach. He ran his hand over the dark black and blue bruises covering his torso. As soon as Danny applied the smallest amount of pressure to one of the marks, Jack shot up, trying to push Danny's hand off of him.

"Ok, ok, ok," Danny whispered softly to him, removing his hand from Jack's stomach and guiding him back down into the couch. Lula had gotten up so Jack could use the full length of the couch. As soon as Danny lowered Jack's head back into the couch, he curled up into himself, his arms wrapped protectively around his stomach.

"What do we do?" Lula whispered to Danny.

Danny ran a hand through his hair and then looked down at Jack. "We should probably call Dylan, he knows more about this then I do. My best guess is that his ribs are broken, but we can't be sure."

"Ok, you call Dylan, I'm gonna go wake up Merritt," Lula replied, disappearing down the hallway.

Danny watched her leave, hoping Merritt would be of more help than he was. He sat down on the coffee table across from Jack and pulled out his phone and began dialing.

"Dylan? We may have a problem…"

Danny spoke with Dylan for a few minutes, filling him in on what had happened over the past day.

"Alright. Ok. See you soon…." He gazed down at Jack, whose face was scrunched up, eyes closed tight, breathing through clenched teeth. "Hurry."

Danny hung up the phone and let out a big sigh. He rested his head in his hands and rested his elbows on his knees.

"What's wrong?" came a small, quiet voice from the heap on the couch.

Danny looked through his hands to see that Jack had peeked his head out from where he had it buried in his arms. He allowed a small laugh to escape his lips, and then smiled softly at Jack.

"What?" Jack asked, confused.

"Your ribs are bashed in and _you're_ asking _me_ if I'm okay," Danny replied, amused at Jack's obliviousness.

"Oh. Yeah. Well...we've already...established that I'm... _not_ doing so great, so...how are...you doing?" Jack said slowly, fighting to get each word out.

"Don't you think that's a bit of an underestimate? 'Not doing so great'? Jack, you can barely breathe, let alone string a sentence together of more than five words. And your entire stomach is black and blue," Danny responded.

Jack looked up at him, cracking a small smile. "Breathing...is overrated...and black and...blue are nice...colors…."

Danny genuinely smiled for the first time since that morning. He admired how even under serious circumstances, Jack always knew how to make him smile, and never failed to think about others before himself.

Despite the smile that Jack had been wearing for the past few minutes, it had been swallowed by the forgotten pain. Danny looked down at Jack who had returned to his eyes closed tightly and teeth clenched state.

Just then, Lula returned with Merritt, who she had already filled in. He went over to the couch and sat on the coffee table that Danny had gotten up from so Merritt could sit.

"You don't look so good, kid," he said softly, trying to meet Jack's eyes. The usual lively, brown eyes were now constantly opening and squeezing shut, looking tired and pained.

"Don't...feel so good," Jack replied hoarsely.

"Hang in there, Dylan's on his way," Merritt informed him, resting a hand on his side. Jack flinched and let out a small whimper.

"Oh damn I forgot, I'm sorry," Merritt mumbled, quickly recoiling his hand. To his surprise, Jack reached up and grabbed his hand, then rested his own arm across the couch so his hand was dangling off the couch, holding Merritt's.

"Please don't….leave."

"I'm not going anywhere."

 **Sorry for the crappy ending, but don't worry, chapter 3 is already in the making! Please review; tell me what you did/didn't like, what I can do to improve, any suggestions, ect. Thank you all!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi guys! Sorry for the wait, but I'm back now! This chapter's a little long, but it focuses on the Jack/Dylan relationship that some of you were looking forward to.**

 **Thank you for the kind reviews! Always much appreciated. Here's the 3rd chapter, enjoy!**

"Where is he?" Danny grumbled, annoyed that Dylan hadn't arrived yet. It had been about thirty minutes since Danny had called Dylan, and there was still no sign of him.

"He's coming, he's coming…" Lula told him, not so sure herself.

The horsemen had been all sitting in the living room, carefully watching Jack as he slept. His breathing was still far from normal, infrequent shaky breaths rattling through his frame. Every now and then, he would try to shift his position but was met with resistance each time. He would let out a quiet whimper, groan and then slowly return to his initial position, all without waking himself up. Danny, Lula and Merritt watched him with worried expressions, wishing they could help, and being pained at the fact that they couldn't.

Their concerned glances were then interrupted by the door opening.

"Hey guys," Dylan greeted, a smile plastered over his apprehension. They all sent him a small nod, smile, or hand wave. "How is he?"

The horsemen exchanged glances before Danny answered. "He's in a lot of pain, but he's not about to admit it entirely."

Dylan smirked slightly. "Typical Jack."

He looked down and saw Jack crumpled on the couch and went over to his side, sitting on the coffee table. He reached a hand out and ran it along the bandage covering Jack's cheek and shot a questioning glance at Danny.

"Small cut from the pavement, it's fine," Danny answered briefly.

Dylan nodded and then returned his attention to Jack. He sighed as Jack shifted slightly and almost cried out in pain.

"Alright, I'm gonna wake him up and see how much he'll let me do," Dylan explained to the three horsemen, never talking his eyes off of Jack.

"Is there anything we can do?" Lula asked.

Dylan thought for a second, then answered, "Just stand by...in case he freaks out or something." He trailed off at the end, aware of the possibility.

Lula, Danny and Merritt nodded, ready for their youngest member to wake up again.

Dylan began reaching for Jack's shoulder, when Danny interrupted. "Just...be careful. I tried to touch his ribs earlier and he almost took my hand off."

Dylan nodded, then continued his reach. He took a hold of Jack's shoulder and shook him extremely gently, not wanting to worsen his pain. "Jack," he whispered. "Jack."

The drowsy brown eyes opened tiredly, taking longer than usual to recognize Dylan's face.

"Hey, buddy….Hey. How you feeling?"

Jack blinked a few times, a smile appearing at the sight of Dylan. "Hi.. Dylan," he answered shakily, his voice hoarse. "I've...been better."

"Yeah, I've heard," Dylan said, a small laugh following, trying to lighten the mood.

Merritt then appeared by Jack's side with a glass of water, after hearing his hoarse voice. Jack looked up at him, confused in his groggy state.

"Drink this, you sound like a frog," Merritt explained, extending his arm towards Jack. Jack smiled his thanks to Merritt as he began to lift his arm to the glass. Before his hand even got parallel to his shoulder, Jack inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut, a sight that was becoming all too familiar to the horsemen. Dylan took Jack's arm in his hand and slowly lowered it back down by his side, then took the water from Merritt who looked extremely guilty that he had indirectly caused Jack pain. Dylan raised the glass to Jack's lips, who graciously drank the entire glass.

"Thanks," he mumbled.

"No problem. I assume your ribs are still bothering you?" Dylan asked.

"Yeah," Jack said sheepishly, breath held and teeth clenched. His hand was over his stomach and it seemed as if he was afraid to breathe.

Dylan gazed at him like a worried parent, standing up to discuss with the other horsemen.

"I need to look at his ribs…." He looked back down at Jack who had protectively wrapped both arms around his torso and had his eyes closed. "...or however much he'll let me do. Is there a big table anywhere? The couch is too small and I need some leverage on him."

"Yeah, we have one of those massage table things in the other room," Merritt informed, "...came with the house, I don't know," he added after Dylan gave him a confused look.

Dylan nodded his understanding. "Alright, I'm gonna need you guys to help me get him in there. Ready?" He received three nods, then knelt down beside Jack.

"Jack. Jack."

His eyes fluttered open again. "...yeah?"

"You think you can sit up for me?"

Jack's eyes widened and his face went pale. "You mean...like...moving?"

Dylan would've normally laughed at his childishness but he saw the pure fear in Jack.

"Yeah. Moving. And then we'll help you in to the other room, ok?"

"Wait...why? Can't we...stay here?" The idea of getting up and physically moving terrified him. He could barely sit still without pain.

Dylan sighed, hoping to put off the explanation until Jack was actually _in_ the other room.

"I need to look at your ribs," Dylan told him hesitantly.

"Oh great," Jack croaked, clearly not thrilled about the idea. He remembered the intense pain when Danny examined his bruises, and he wasn't looking forward to it again.

Dylan sighed at Jack's reaction, knowing that it wasn't going to be fun for him. "I know kid, I'm sorry, but the sooner, the better. Are you ready?"

Jack let out a wavering breath, realizing he wasn't going to get his way. "I guess." He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, grimacing the entire time and letting out small gasps.

"Good… that's good, Jack," Dylan said encouragingly, his hand on Jack's back to keep him from falling back down. With some help, Jack was then sitting on the edge of the couch. Dylan stayed on his right side while Merritt came to his left. They both helped him into a standing position, gingerly draping his arms around their shoulders.

"Good?" Dylan asked Jack.

"Yeah...yeah," he answered wearily.

They began moving towards the small room off of the living room. Each step pained Jack, and he had to stop constantly to wait for the pain to pass. They weren't even halfway when Merritt decided to stop.

"Merritt, what-" Jack started. He picked Jack up bridal-style and swiftly carried him into the room.

"Ow, Merritt….." he groaned, the jostling sending fresh waves of pain through his body.

"I know, Jackie, I'm sorry, but this is quicker."

"O….kay….." Jack breathed out, closing his eyes and resting his head on Merritt's shoulder. Usually he would've been embarrassed, but he didn't care at this point, and found it kind of comforting.

Lula had opened the door and Danny was waiting in the room next to the table. Merritt brought Jack over to the table and slowly lowered him into it, earning a few groans from Jack. He slowly stretched his legs out in front of him, his ribs screaming at him in the process. Danny gently grabbed his shoulders and lowered him down into the table. Jack finally relaxed a little, letting his head rest on the table. He took as deep of a breath as he could and let it out slowly, eyes closed.

"Thanks guys," he said tiredly, breathing heavily.

"Of course, kid," Merritt replied, and sat down in one of the chairs against the wall. Danny smiled down at him, remaining standing next to the table. Lula came in from the doorway and had pulled up a chair on the opposite side of the table.

"Are you ok?" she whispered to him, her voice dripping with concern.

He looked over her, his pained expressions softening. "Yeah….I'm...gonna be fine...Don't worry, Lu, don't….worry."

She smiled at his optimism, knowing that he was trying his best to hide his fear and nervousness. Dylan then walked in and came over to the side of the table, nodding his appreciation to the other horsemen for their help.

"I'm gonna try and do this as quick as possible. I just need to find out what's wrong, and then we'll go from there, okay?" Dylan explained as he walked up beside the table.

"Okay."

Dylan took the bottom of Jack's shirt in his hands and gently rolled it up so his stomach was exposed. He tried to control his utter shock and worry when he saw the black and blue spread across Jack's torso. He placed a hand on one of the bruises and felt Jack tense up, along with a soft, quick inhale.

"Does that hurt?"

"...Yeah…" Jack breathed out from behind clenched teeth. He was gripping the side of the table with one of his hands, his knuckles turning white.

Dylan moved his hand up so he was directly above one of Jack's ribs. He pushed down gently to feel the rib and to try to determine if it was broken or not.

"That hurt?"

"Yeah… all of it...hurts…"

Dylan began applying pressure to the bone.

"Ow, Dylan… OW-" Jack let out a cry and moved away from Dylan's touch, rolling half over on to his side so he could no longer reach him.

Guilt overriding him, Dylan immediately moved his hand away from Jack and sighed. He then hesitantly reached back down and rolled Jack back over so he could see his face.

"Ok, I'm done for now, it's ok, it's done for now," he said softly to Jack, who was fighting to keep a tear in his eye. He blinked a few times and then looked back up at Dylan, seeming so young and small.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Danny asked from the chair where he was sitting next to Merritt.

Dylan ran a hand over his face, sighing softly. He turned around to face Danny.

"Yeah," he told him reluctantly. "His ribs are definitely broken. At least three or four of them."

Lula lightly ran her fingers through Jack's hair and then kissed his forehead. She saw the fear in Jack's eyes of what was to come, and she wished she could help him, but she knew that Dylan would ensure the best recovery.

"Jack, I'm gonna have to set your ribs. Honestly, it'll hurt like hell, but the quicker you let me do it, the sooner it'll be over," Dylan explained.

As Dylan spoke, Jack watched his every more, eyes wide and fearful. He could barely tolerate anyone touching his ribs, so the idea of Dylan trying to rearrange them was enough to make him break into a small sweat and his heart to race.

Noticing his reaction, Dylan walked over to the top of the table where Jack's head was. "I know, I know you're scared. But trust me on this. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, ok?"

"Ok," Jack said, his voice sounding small. He trusted Dylan, he really did, but he was slightly weary of him now, considering what just happened.

Dylan looked across the table at Lula, who was also standing. They exchanged a look, as if Dylan was silently asking her to calm Jack down so he could start. She was now holding Jack's hand, his grip on her hand tightening with every word Dylan said. She crouched down so her head was level with Jack's. She noticed the sweat starting to pool around his hairline, and his chest rising and falling in an irregular pattern again.

"Hey," she whispered.

He turned his head slowly so their eyes met. Jack let a small smile crack through his worried expression, Lula's soft eyes calming him a little. Lula returned the smile, glad to see him relax a little for the first time since the crash.

"There we go," she said, dancing her fingers through his brunette mess once again.

Dylan allowed a grin to escape his lips at the sight of Jack relaxing. He looked back to Lula, and quietly mouthed _thank you_. Lula shot him a melancholy smile, and slowly stood up, never letting go of Jack's hand.

"Ready?" Dylan gently asked Jack.

Jack looked up at Lula one last time, his eyes full of worry, then transferred his gaze to Dylan.

"Ready..."

 **Hope you liked it. I feel like I'm dragging this story out a little, what do you guys think? Let me know and I'll try and fix it. R &R please! Thank you all!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey guys! I'm so sorry for not updating in awhile. I was really trying to perfect this chapter. As requested, this chapter is longer than the other. Thank you for the feedback, I really appreciate it. Here's chapter 4! I hope you enjoy it!**

"Ready…." Jack said hoarsely, volume just above a whisper. He was absolutely terrified for what was about to happen, and he no longer bothered to hide his fear. Ever since the accident, he had been downplaying the situation because he hated to appear weak. Saying _yeah, I'm fine,_ instead of, _I think something's wrong. I'm just a little sore,_ rather than, _something inside me is broken._ But at this point, that was the farthest thing from his mind.

Dylan placed his hands on Jack's torso, brushing them along the bruises. The sudden pain bringing him back from his thoughts, Jack tensed up, tightening his grip on Lula's hand while squeezing the table side even harder. His breath quickened and he could feel his stomach rising and falling against his broken ribs.

"Here we go," Dylan said softly. Jack looked up at him, panic and fear laced through his every expression. He then closed his eyes and lowered his head back down into the table, clenching his teeth to keep himself from crying out.

"Go."

Dylan pushed down on the first rib, a sickening pop ringing throughout the silent room. Lula winced at the noise, Danny ran a nervous hand through his hair, and Merritt simply stared in shock.

Jack gasped loudly, his eyes shooting open. A white hot pain coursed through his abdomen, throbbing especially around the rib. He wanted to wrap his arms around himself and curl into a ball, but he knew he couldn't. His breaths turned into short gasps, the air never fully reaching his lungs. He squeezed his eyes shut again, trying to block out the pain, and hide the single tear that was threatening to fall.

"Ok, ok, first one's done, Jack. Can you handle three more?" Dylan asked gently, placing a hand on Jack's shoulder.

 _No, I can't really take three more, this sucks…_

"Yeah….just….do it," Jack croaked, trying to keep his voice from cracking.

Dylan gave him a slight nod and returned his hands to Jack's stomach. He ran his hands along the bruises until he was directly over another one of Jack's ribs. Jack flinched violently, the simple contact igniting new waves of pain.  
"Right there?"

"...Yeah."

The familiar pop traveled around the room, followed by a few crunches. Jack groaned loudly, almost to the point of a cry. He rolled over a little towards Lula, shying away from Dylan's touch.

He opened his eyes slowly, as he was met with the calming sight of Lula's face. A small smile danced across her lips, trying to mask the worry and concern.

"Hey," she whispered, reaching a hand up to brush back the hair that had matted to his forehead. "Just a few more, ok?"

Jack tightened his grip on her hand, being brought back to the reality of what was happening. He'd much rather be marveling over her smile than having his ribs (quite painfully) rearranged.

"It hurts...so...bad…." he rasped. The tear that he had been fighting so hard to keep in fell from his eye and began to slide down his cheek.

"I know, I know… Just a few more, ok? Then we're done. Promise." She reached out and wiped away the tear with her fingertip, never looking away from Jack.

"O….kay."

Jack tried to prop himself up on his elbow to turn back over, but he collapsed in the process, letting out a soft cry. Dylan quickly grabbed his shoulders and gently turned him over so he was laying on his back.

"Two more. That's it," he told Jack.

 _Bullshit. Easy for you to say._

"Alright."

Dylan once again ran his hands over the black and blue marks until he found the most sensitive spot. He stopped moving his hands when he felt Jack shudder under his touch. He looked to Jack, who nodded.

As Dylan began to apply pressure to the bone, a searing pain ripped through Jack's torso. He immediately jumped up, grabbing Dylan's arm and pushed it off of him. His breathing was labored, and the agony had amplified. Understanding what he just did, Jack realized he had probably caused himself more discomfort than prevented it.

"Ok, ok, easy," Dylan said calmly, although he was surprised at Jack's reaction. He unwrapped the horseman's fingers from his arm which had left a few marks from his death grip. Jack allowed Dylan to guide him back down to the table, sinking into it defeatedly.

"M' sorry," Jack mumbled, a mixture of embarrassment and exhaustion slurring his words. "It just...hurts…and...and..."

"I know, Jack, I know. It's ok, I understand." Dylan now felt more guilty than ever. He was putting Jack through hell, and _he_ was apologizing to _him._

"Two more, ok? I'll do it as quickly as I can, ok?"

 _Two is kind of a lot._

"Ok….quick."

"Quick," Dylan repeated, nodding as he said it.

His hands jumped around the sea of black and blue, stopping when Jack inhaled sharply and tensed up. _Stay down, stay down, stay down,_ Jack said over and over again in his head. He felt the familiar pressure and began anticipating the burst of agony. The white hot suddenly traveled through his body, and he couldn't restrain himself from lunging up to try to stop it.

However, a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and slowly pushed him back down. Confused to why the agony had not ceased, Jack gazed up at the person restraining him. In his pain induced state, Jack hadn't even realized Danny appear beside the table.

"You're alright, easy, easy…" Danny's voice floated down to Jack, it's usual sharp, straightforwardness nowhere to be found.

Jack fell into Danny's touch, letting him entirely lay him back down. He limply sank into the table, all of his strength drained. A small groan escaped his lips as he rested his head back. He looked up to Dylan, who looked almost as tired and pained as he did.

"One...more?" he croaked, barely enough energy left to speak.

"Yes...one more. That's it, ok?" Dylan replied.

Jack slowly nodded, closing his eyes in efforts to block everything out.

The dreaded, familiar process started one last time. Locating the bone, Dylan pressed lightly on the bruise.

"Jack?"

"Yeah."

One last crunch, crack and pop echoed in the room, followed by a shout and gasp from Jack. He had been trying so hard to keep it in, but it broke free from his lips. He slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Dylan through the tears.

"Done?" he asked wearilty.

"Done," Dylan began, "...just have to wrap them, then _everything's_ done. Promise."

Jack's eyes widened. "What….there's….more?" His breath quickened as he felt his heart race.

"No, no, it's ok," Dylan quickly assured to keep Jack from hyperventilating. "Compared to what I just put you through, this'll be nothing." He bent down under the table to retrieve the med kit.

"Better...be…" Jack mumbled, not ready at all to re-experience the agony.

Dylan smirked at him, shuffling through the contents of the box before pulling out the wrap.

"See? Just a bandage," Dylan explained, holding the wrap out in front of Jack, as if showing a child that something they're afraid of is harmless.

"Thank god," he rasped, voice still shaky.

Dylan smiled at him again, glad that the mood was lifting. As he was unwrapping the bandage, his phone began to ring. He sighed, taking it out of his pocket.

"I got it." Jack looked over to see Danny, arm extended, waiting for Dylan to give him the bandage.

"Thanks," Dylan replied gratefully, tossing the wrap to Danny and moving away from the table to allow Danny to get closer. He then left the room, phone raised to his ear. Merritt followed, going to ready the couch for Jack. Lula left as well, after placing a kiss on Jack's forehead. A weary smile spread across his face as he watched her leave. He then looked back to Danny, eyeing him carefully.

"Do you….know what….you're doing?" Jack questioned.

Danny scoffed at him. "I'm Meredith Grey, aren't I?"

Jack laughed a little, thankful for Danny's sarcasm for once. "Hope so."

Danny returned the laugh, letting it travel through the grave expression that he had had for the past few hours.

"Can you sit up for me?" Danny asked him, not sure how much he was able of doing on his own.

"Yeah…. If you help…me," Jack replied sheepishly, reaching his arm up to Danny. The other horsemen grabbed his hand and slowly pulled him into a sitting position. Jack winced, squeezing his eyes shut temporarily. He slowed his breathing, waiting for the pain to pass. Once it did, he opened his eyes again and was met with a newly-concerned Danny.

"Good?"

"Yeah." His voice was just above a whisper, sounding more like a hoarse cry than his normal light-hearted tone. He gingerly stretched his arms out behind him to prop himself up so Danny could start.

Danny took the end of the wrap and placed it on the front of Jack's stomach, then proceeded to wrap it around his torso once. Jack flinched slightly, but it was nothing compared to earlier.

"How are you feeling?" Danny asked, continuing to wrap the bandage.

"...Better," Jack managed. He was met with an annoyed expression from Danny, who then laughed under his breath.

"You're a horrible liar," Danny teased, catching a glare from Jack.

"It's fine…..I'm….alri-" he was interrupted by a gasp after Danny pulled the bandage too tight over one of the bruises.

"Shit, sorry," Danny mumbled, loosening the pressure of the bandage and then redoing it. He looked back down to Jack, a small smirk on his lips. "Yeah, you're _totally_ fine."

Jack stared playful daggers at him, sighing and dropping his head a bit. He didn't know why he was still trying to hide the severity of his injuries; something inside him told him not to appear weak, to be strong, but he knew there was no need for that.

Danny then finished wrapping Jack's ribs, sealing the bandage off above his right hip. He smoothed a hand over it to secure the seal.

"All done," Danny announced. "So, _now_ would you like to answer for real this time?"

Jack groaned, annoyed that Danny had yet again called his lies.

"Arlight. I mean...no… I'm not exactly….alright," Jack began, stringing his sentences together better than before.

"Good start," Danny mocked, grinning at Jack from the ground where he was putting away the med kit.

"It hurts… like, a shit ton… and I still… can't really breathe….but it's better….than before. Whatever Dylan did…. I think it...helped," he continued, regulating his breathing.

"Yeah, I'm glad it helped, 'cause that looked like absolute hell," Danny remarked, placing his hands on the table and leaning into them.

Chills rattled through Jack as he recalled it. "Yeah, that wasn't….the highlight of my day. Kinda felt like… my insides were in a blender….and the blender… was on fire."

Danny laughed, _actually laughed,_ bringing his hand up to his face to conceal his childish grin. Jack smiled, too, feeling quite accomplished that he had broken the great J. Daniel Atlas's facade.

"Alright," Daniel said after he had gathered himself. "We should get you back into the other room. I think Dylan wants you to sleep on the couch for the next few days."

Jack groaned, wanting nothing more than to crawl into his own bed and sleep. "I think I should...just sleep….here…" he mumbled. He hadn't realized just how exhausted he was until this point.

Danny sighed, knowing he wasn't going to be able to move Jack, being as stubborn as he was.

"Fine," he said defeatedly. "I'll be back in a few hours. Dylan wants to see you again." Just as Danny was about to leave the room, he heard Jack's voice.

"Danny?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm a really shitty James Bond."

 **This was gonna be the last chapter, but I think I'll add one more. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Please read and review! Feedback always appreciated :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi guys! I'm so sorry this chapter took so long. I wanted to make it the best I could, since it's the last one. Thank you for your reviews and feedback; I really appreciate it.**

 **Enjoy!**

Danny aimlessly flipped a deck of cards through his hands, watching over Jack as he slept on the couch. His breathing had normalized, his chest rising and falling at a regular pace. Every now and then a breath would hitch, he'd wince, breathe out, then continue as before.

Soon after he had fallen asleep on the table, Merritt had carried him into the living room, as Dylan had requested. It had been a few hours since then, and Jack showed no sign of waking up. Danny understood this, remembering how absolutely exhausted the sleight was, but part of him still wished that he would wake up.

"He's gonna be out for a while."

The voice snapped Danny out of his mindless shuffling, as he looked up to see Dylan.

"I…. I know," Danny mumbled, slightly flustered.

Dylan smirked, letting out a small laugh. "You sure? You've been sitting here for…" he looked down at his watch. "...almost two hours."

"Oh. Didn't even realize," Danny responded curtly, repositioning the cards in his hands. Dylan looked down at him, slightly confused, then sat down in the chair next to him.

"He's fine, okay? It'll take some time, but he'll be ok. I promise. He's tough."

"Yeah, maybe a little _too_ tough," Danny muttered, letting out a frustrated sigh.

"What?"

Danny's eyes traveled back up to Dylan, abandoning the cards still in his hand. He let out another annoyed breath. "It's just… he never tells us when anything's wrong. Like, a few months ago, we were trying a new trick, and we had this…fire thing, I don't know what it's called, and somehow the flame got away and just _charred_ Jack's entire arm. Like _absolutely burned him._ " Danny paused, dragging a hand over his face, recalling the memory. "You could _smell_ the burning flesh. Of course, we were freaking out, trying to get him to run it under water, bandage it, whatever… He kept telling us 'No, I'm fine, it's nothing,' when his arm looked he had just crawled out of a burning building. We didn't listen, obviously. We took care of it as best we could. He just never made a big deal out of it, never admitted that it hurt like hell. Even after that, when we'd ask him how it was, he'd always dismiss the question, say it was nothing… I'd see him, though, trying to use it as little as possible, grimacing when he thought no one was looking, trying to….trying to _hide_ it from us. Why us?" Danny paused again, glancing over at Jack. "Look." He got up and crept over to the side of the couch. Lightly grabbing Jack's arm, he lifted it up from where it was resting on his side. "He still has the scar."

Dylan felt his stomach turn, looking at the large red patch still covering a portion of Jack's arm from his wrist to his elbow. Although it seemed to be fading, the licks from the flames had left their marks.

"Oh, Jack…." Dylan whispered to himself, rubbing a hand over his face.

Danny nodded, gently laying Jack's arm back down on his side and returning to his seat. "I was talking to him in the other room, and he actually told me, ya know, that he was in pain. I mean, we had known it all along, I just wish…..just wish I didn't have to pry it out of him, that he would _just tell_ us."

"Tell us what?"

Danny snapped his head around to see that Merritt had entered. He crossed the room and sat down on the coffee table in front of the couch, near the chairs that Danny and Dylan were sitting in. Realizing the mentalist wouldn't take "nothing" for an answer, Danny began to explain he and Dylan's conversation.

"Jack never tells us when he's hurt or something's wrong… He always tries to-"

"Well yeah, he's Jack," Merritt interrupted.

"I know that, dumbass," Danny retorted, annoyed. "I just wish he _wasn't_ like that, is all I'm saying. Remember when his arm looked like a goddam hotdog?"

Merritt's eyes widened at the memory, and he shifted forward so his hands elbows were resting on his knees. "Yeah, that was pretty bad," he admitted, earning an arrogant look of triumph from Danny.

"Hotdog?"

Everyone jumped at the small voice from the couch, forgetting the subject of their conversation was in the room.

"Yeah….." Danny began, "...want a hotdog?"

"Good save," Merritt teased softly, trying not to laugh out loud.

Jack looked at him strangely; even in his sleep induced state, he could sense that something wasn't right.

"Since when do we… eat hotdogs?" he questioned. He then pushed himself up into a sitting position, wincing and squeezing his eyes shut. Gingerly swinging his legs over the side of the couch, he opened his eyes again and let out a shaky breath.

"Easy," Dylan warned, "your ribs aren't exactly in place."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Jack rasped, exhaling shallowly and placing a hand on his stomach. He took a shaky breath in and let it out slowly, waiting for the ache to pass. Once it did, he looked back up to Danny. "So, what were you… really talking about? 'Cause I've never seen any of you...eat a hotdog."

Danny stared at Jack for a second, not wanting to lie to him but not wanting to re-explain their conversation. His eyes traveled down to Jack's arm which was holding up his weight as it was anchored on the couch beside him. Danny lifted up his own arm and pointed to the spot where Jack's scar was. Understanding, Jack lifted up his own arm, painfully shifting his weight on to his other arm. He examined the scar, then laughed a little. "I guess it kinda did look like a hotdog." Lifting his gaze from the remains of the flames, he met Danny and Merritt's eyes again. "Wait, but why were you talking about-"

" _Because,_ Jack," Danny started, the same annoyance and frustration from earlier returning, "you never tell us when something's wrong. Exhibit A-" he pointed to the sleight's arm- "and we just recently experienced Exhibit B."

Jack's cheeks flushed red, and he laughed nervously. "Exhibit B was not my favorite."

"Me neither," Dylan mumbled, still feeling guilty for causing Jack so much pain.

"Yeah, so next time you bust your ribs in or fry your arm or do anything stupid, _tell us_. Okay?" Danny said. He felt like a mother protecting her child, and if he was being honest with himself, he didn't really mind taking on the 'protector' role.

"Okay," Jack replied sheepishly, seeming like the child in the situation.

Daniel sighed, glad to have Jack agree with him. "Good," he replied, getting up to leave the living room. He ruffled a hand through Jack's hair as he passed by, earning a goofy smile from the sleight.

Reaching the kitchen, he began to make some coffee for himself and the other horsemen. As he ran through the familiar process, he felt as if he now had a new responsibility to protect Jack, to help him recover. He kind of liked it.

Upon returning to the living room a few minutes after, he found Lula had joined them. She was sitting on the coffee table and seemingly interrogating Jack about his injuries. He was laughing at her extreme concern, continually telling her he was fine, which surprisingly, he really was. Yes, his torso still suffered from a constant ache, but there was no more shooting pain, and he was able to string his sentences together without frequently pausing.

"I'm fine, really, I'm ok," he assured her, his childish grin gracing his lips.

"Are you sure?" Lula questioned, still not entirely believing him.

Jack tossed his head back on the couch, letting out a playful frustrated sigh.

"Yes! I'm fine…..Look!" he said to her, lifting up his shirt so she could see the bandage tightly wrapped around his torso.

Giggles shook her frame at the sight of Jack so excitedly showing her his new wrap.

"Ok? Ok," Jack laughed, lowering his shirt back over the bandage. He reached out and took her hands in his as she continued giggling.

"Are we good now?" he asked, still laughing himself.

Lula smiled at him and nodded. She ran a hand along his cheek and planting a kiss on his lips. "Yes, we're good," she giggled, dancing a hand through his hair.

Dylan and Merritt smiled at the two from the chairs they were sitting in across the room.

"At least he's better," Danny remarked, sipping his coffee.

"Yeah, that was rough," Merritt commented. "I've never seen Jack cry. That must have hurt like hell."

Danny nodded, lowering the mug from his mouth. "Yeah, he said it felt like his insides were in a blender...and the blender was on fire."

Merritt chuckled a little at the description, being able to imagine Jack saying something like that. "He never lost his sense of humor, did he?"

Danny returned the laugh. "Typical Jack."

Dylan had joined Jack and Lula by the couch, deciding to examine Jack's ribs one more time before he left.

"I'm gonna undo the bandage, okay?" Dylan explained as he sat down on the coffee table. Jack nodded, lifting his shirt up so Dylan could access the wrap. Dylan ran his hand along Jack's torso, searching for the place where Danny had sealed it off. "Where…." he muttered.

"DANNY!" Jack yelled across the room.

Dylan recoiled, as Jack's scream echoed in his head. "JACK! Why?!"

Jack laughed at his reaction. "I just felt like yelling… I feel live I've been whispering for the past few days," he replied, giggling to himself.

Dylan couldn't but help let out a small laugh. "Fair enough, kid."

"WHAT JACK?" Danny's shout came from across the room, sounding extremely annoyed.

"WHERE DID YOU END THE BANDAGE?"

"ABOVE YOUR HIP, IDIOT."

"THANK YOU!"

Dylan quickly located the seal and ripped it off from the rest of the wrap. As he undid the bandage, he noticed that Jack's breathing was becoming labored again, followed by small grimaces.

"This is why," Dylan began, passing the rolled up bandage behind Jack, "you don't scream after you busted your ribs."

Jack smiled sheepishly, his breath hitching in his throat. "Sorry," he croaked.

Dylan smirked down at Jack, taking the last piece of the bandage off and coiling it up.

"Alright, let's see…."

He ran his hands along the bruises that were still mottling Jack's skin. They somehow looked worse then before; darker, more colorful. Jack craned his head up and let out a defeated sigh.

"Why do they look worse?" he groaned.

"Because as bruises heal, they look worse. This is good, Jack," Dylan explained.

"Oh, good, 'cause that looks nasty" Jack replied, somewhat relieved.

Dylan laughed at his childishness, then continued. Applying pressure to the marks, he felt Jack flinch under his touch.

"Does that still hurt?"

Jack let out a breath. "Yeah."

"How bad?"

"It doesn't feel _good,_ but it's not as bad as before."

Dylan smiled at the progress made. "Good."

He helped Jack back into a sitting position, taking hold of the horseman's hand and gently pulling him up. Danny and Merritt had entered the room, silently watching the re-examination.

Dylan continued lightly pressing and prodding the bruises, Jack only slightly wincing. Jack watched Dylan's hands run along his torso. He noticed bruising along Dylan's arm, and curiosity overcame him. "What's-" he sat up, pushing against Dylan's touch "-that?"

Confused, Dylan looked down at his own arm. Recalling what it was from, he let out a nervous laugh. "That's from when you tried to take off my arm while I was setting your ribs. You have quite the death grip," he responded sheepishly.

Jack's eyes widened. "Oh shit, I'm sorry," he apologized.

Dylan laughed again. "Compared to what I put you through, that's nothing."

Jack smiled up at him, not feeling as guilty as he did before.

Dylan finished checking over Jack and picked up the bandage from the table. "You don't need this anymore," he told him.

The grin that escaped Jack's face was mirrored on the rest of the horsemen in the room.

"Just don't do anything crazy, take it easy, _don't scream_ …." Danny and Jack immediately looked at each other, Danny still mildly annoyed, and Jack still amused at himself. "...and don't beat each other up. Please," Dylan finished.

Danny smirked at Jack, blowing out a small laugh. "We'll see."

Dylan said his goodbyes to his horsemen and made his way over to the door. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in the doorway.

"Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Stay away from motorcycles."

 **Well, there you go! Thank you all for the support. I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please let me know what you think. I don't know if I'll write another story, but if anyone has any ideas, please let me know! I'd be happy to hear. Thank you again!**


End file.
